


Death and the Sea

by NyeLung



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, becoming gods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-03-29 22:29:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13936749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyeLung/pseuds/NyeLung
Summary: James stabs the heart for honour and becomes captain of the Flying Dutchman and much more. Jack takes on a mission for his love for the sea and leaves behind what he has been before. Seasons change, years pass and Death and the Sea are drawn ever closer together.





	1. Prologue: Swann Song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Narina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narina/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly inspired by the deleted Scene "Swann Song" and my interpretation of it all.

### Prologue: Swann Song

Governor Swann stormed into the room with the heart and the chest full of righteous anger and desperation. With one swift movement that made James remember the days they had duelled for training, he gripped a bayonet's blade and was about to stab the heart. Only then could James overcome his stupor and stop the governor.

“Governor!” He gripped his arms, constricted his movements in all those ways that James had learnt as a young cadet and still, Weatherby Swann held his own against him. He was crying. James had never seen the man cry.

“Did you know? Did you know she's dead?” The governor's grip slackened. “Elizabeth's dead.”

“Withdraw, Corporal. Leave!” This was not a matter for the company to witness. The men understood and obliged albeit unwillingly. They still had their other orders but James was an admiral now and in this room his word was law.

“Let me kill him, let me do this!” The governor was still crying, angry and confused. James was still trying to understand what he had said. Elizabeth couldn't be dead.

“Let him go”, Davy Jones announced his presence.

“Stay back!”, the governor yelled. James drew his pistol although he knew that it wouldn't even hurt the cursed pirate will still holding back the governor. “I will kill you.”

“And are you prepared for what comes after?” Davy Jones stepped closer. “When I carved that traitorous vessel from my body, I cast upon it a terrible geis. If you stab my heart, yours must take its place.” As though it was taunting them, the heart thumbed louder while Jones stepped ever closer. “The crew are not bound to me, they are bound to the _Dutchman_ and the _Dutchman_ must have a captain. Will ye serve?”

And although Jones was talking to the governor, James could feel his eyes on him during the last sentence. He knew what he had to do. Yet he got interrupted by the appearance of Lord Beckett and Mister Mercer. He didn't believe one word they said about Elizabeth being alive.

“Governor, there is still hope.” He nodded nearly invisible in the direction of the chest. “Please.”

Governor Swann must have read his intentions from his eyes because he gave him the blade and left with the words “Our association is ended.”

“You're dismissed, Captain”, Beckett hissed after Governor Swann had stepped out of the room and Jones followed the order after one last look at James. James understood. He would do everything ins his power to stab the heart.

“Thank you, Admiral.”

James had to fight hard not to sneer. Of course Beckett was thankful. He'd kept his slave Davy Jones and he felt sure now that James wouldn't rebel. He left without a word and deeply regretted that he had to hand over the key to the chest before getting out of this room and away from the beating heart taunting him. Tempting him.


	2. Chapter 1: The Admiral's Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isn't it funny how similar Davy Jones and James Norrington are?

### Chapter 1: The Admiral's Heart

James sneaked into the captain's chamber and looked for the chest. He might not be in possession of the key any longer but even taking the chest and the heart away from Beckett's influence was a good deed and there was a lot James had to repay with good deeds. Betraying Elizabeth was one thing on that list. Giving the heart to Lord Beckett was another. By doing that he had caused so much death, not only to pirates, to many more people and he had to stop it.

“I knew you would be coming, James Norrington”, Davy Jones sneered. “Too bad you don't have the key to the chest.”

“No”, James admitted calmly. “You have.”

Jones raised what would be an eyebrow on a person. “Figured that out, have ye, Admiral?”

James nodded carefully. He wasn't sure how to proceed. Maybe he had misjudged Jones' intentions. “I can set you free.”

Jones snorted. “My freedom was forfeit long ago.”

“And yet, here you are.” James was still unsure how to proceed. He tried not to upset the captain. Davy Jones was more than capable of killing him and James felt no desire to die yet. “I reckon you loathe being Beckett's slave just as much as I do.”

A huff of breath and a grunt. “And who's to blame for all of this? Who gave me heart in that slimy bastard's hands?”

“I. I did.” James breathed in deeply. “And I will do everything in my power to stop Beckett from doing further harm.”

“You're a powerless man”, Jones answered derisively. “You're his lapdog.”

“A lapdog can bite just as much as a feral one.” James put his resolve into words. “I will stop Beckett. It's the least I can do to atone for my sins.”

Low, guttural sounds escaped the captain's throat. It took James a few moments to realize that Davy Jones was laughing. “You'd stab my heart, take the curse upon you … and you'd do it for honour?” He was laughing even louder now. “I don't think I've ever met a fool such as you.”

“I was a fool for giving Beckett the heart. I messed up and it has to stop.” James straightened his posture. “And, frankly, you want it to stop, too. I know the stories, the legends. You carved the heart out because you - “

“Do not presume to know my reasons, James Norrington”, Davy Jones suddenly threatened. “I will not take pity from you!”

“I don't pity you, Davy Jones.” James didn't move away. “But your current situation is my fault and I am going to remedy that. And yet …” James took a step forward, so that he stood next to Jones. “You are here, you stole the key and disposed of the chest's guards without anyone noticing. You are able to roam the seas freely and possess a power I can't even imagine. As soon as Beckett set to the seas with the heart on the _Endeavour_ , you could have rebelled, led a mutiny and be free.” Jones blinked without answering. Perhaps he hadn't even thought of that – or he was surprised that James had guessed it right. “I think you want someone to kill you. To end it.”

Jones' shoulders sagged and everything about him radiated defeat. One tentacle of his beard wandered into his coat and came out again with the key. “Take it. Stab that infernal thing.”

“I gather you want me to do it with anger and not an inkling of pity although I know the stories?” James couldn't hold back the hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Davy Jones let out another snort. “Don't listen to the stories. They ain't half of it.”

James turned the key and opened the chest. “So, tell me. If it wasn't for the love of a woman and the sea, why did you carve out your heart and curse it?” He was interested in the story. He was also stalling for time although he shouldn't. Looking at the heart... he realized that soon his own would be in its place and it was an unsettling thought at best.

Jones cocked his head one way and another, seemingly at a loss for words and yet too many words to be spoken. “I loved her … she left me no choice. I … She cannot be trusted.”

“Who?” James searched for his sword. All it would take was one stab and he could restore his honour.

“Calypso. The sea. Thought ye heard the stories?” Jones smirked. “Ten years I ferried the souls of those who died at sea over to the other side. For her. She promised we'd see each other again then. But-” Jones hit the planks of the _Dutchman_ in helpless rage. “When we could have been together again, she wasn't there. She betrayed me. The world is well rid of her.” He rambled on as though this was his absolution. James shut his mouth and stayed his hand. If he were to take Jones' place, he'd better make sure to know everything there was to know about the _Dutchman_ and its story. “I showed the first Brethren Court how to bind her and they did. Calypso was gone, hidden in some human body and I turned into this.”

“And then you carved out your heart because the betrayal was too much to bear and yet not enough to kill you”, James finished. 

“You know.” Jones cocked his head to one side and mustered James with new interest. “The woman, the one Turner loves.”

James couldn't suppress the slight flinching at those words. Yes, Elizabeth. He knew exactly how it felt to be betrayed be the woman he loved. He knew what it felt like, wanting to carve out your heart because it couldn't stop loving and it hurt, it hurt so much.

Jones laughed again. That horrible, hollow laughter that would follow James even if he would do his best to forget it. There were no emotions left in it. They were gone just like his heart. “Tell me, James Norrington, do you fear death?” A slight glimmer in the captain's eyes. “Or would you welcome it with open arms?”

“We both know the answer to that.”

“Then do it. Stab the heart. Give up all hope of death.” Jones suddenly rose from his seat. “And don't think that you will stop feeling. You will carve out your heart, you curse it, it is cursed already with love. It will not stop. You just won't have to look at it all the time, listen to it beating with that treacherous hope.”

“Then so be it.” He raised his sword and let it rush down, right into the heart. There was a choked sigh coming from Jones and relief flushing his deformed features. Tentacles curled in on themselves and turned back to beard, the skin returned to its normal tone and hands returned where there had been tentacles and a claw.

James' knees gave in and he tumbled down next to Jones as the mumbling and whispering of the ship arose. “Part of the ship, part of the crew.” A never ending chorus. He looked at his sword and down at his chest. With a deep breath he turned the sword around, against himself and started to cut.


	3. Chapter 2: The corruption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More James but trust me when I say that Jack will come soon.

### Chapter 2: The corruption

James breathed in deeply, trying to fight down the panic. He looked down at his hands and felt it rise again. There were scales growing on his fingers, replacing the skin. He felt sick. He was changing, beginning to look like Jones. He hadn't thought it would happen, hadn't thought it would happen so fast.

“So it is true”, a person suddenly spoke in his back. A woman, none of the crew. He could feel the crew. He couldn't feel this woman. “It wasn't because Jones didn't fulfil his duty. It is worse.”

“Who are you?”, he demanded to know. James turned around and found himself face to face with a dark-skinned woman who seemed to stem from one of the islands in the Pacific. She wore flowers and seashells in her hair, interwoven with pearls and fish bones. Her face was marked with ink.

“You may call me Moana. That's what I am. The ocean.” She smiled. “And you are the captain. Did it hurt? Cutting out your heart, I mean?” She cocked her head, looking very much like a sea bird thinking of devouring a fish.

“What do you want from me?”, James cut back to the matter. He really didn't want to discuss how he had ended up in his current position. It had hurt. It still hurt.

“Oh, I was just curious, you know?” The woman continued to smile. Her skirt moved in non-existing breezes, changing into bright yellow, blue-ringed tentacles and back. “I had two theories why the captain changed after betraying my sister. Calypso, the Caribbean. I think you haven't met her yet?”

James blinked in confusion. The tentacles, the words. Saying that she was the ocean... that hadn't been just words? “I haven't”, he answered carefully while still trying to wrap his head around his visitor.

“Thought so. Anyway, my theories. At first I thought it happened because Davy Jones himself was corrupted and the betrayal at my sister was the last step to show it in his appearance, like some kind of curse, you know?” Moana crossed her legs. “But now I believe it to have a different cause.” She looked expectantly at him. There was bitterness in her voice when she spoke next. “I think the root lies in our own corruption. You and before you Jones are just the mirror showing that we are slowly losing our self.”

James furrowed his brows – or what had been his brows – in confusion. “I don't think I understand.”

“We are slowly going mad,” Moana put emphasis on every word. “Is what I'm saying, anyway. The icy seas of the North and South have lost all compassion, every shred of the nurturing nature they once possessed. They have become cruel and harsh. Carribbean has become twisted with the betrayal of Davy Jones. But I don't have to tell you that, do I? And Atlantic? Oh, Atlantic never stopped grieving for Atlantis, never forgot the violent deaths. As for the rest of us... Oh, we felt it, too, when Atlantis was destroyed, when the world was ripped apart and built anew. I can still feel it in my bones, I can hear it in the waves, the screams of those days, the fire spilling from the ground, burning us. And always the deeps are calling, Death is calling, waiting to devour me.”

James shivered involuntarily. He couldn't comprehend what could drive an entity as this mad but he was starting to see it.

“I ask but one thing of you, Captain. Deliver us. I cannot take it any longer and eternity stretching on before me is a curse I do not wish to bear and neither do my siblings. We have guarded the oceans for so long it is time for us to rest now.”

“But how?”, he asked, still confounded by all this new knowledge.

“I can't say, Captain, but I know this. When we are gone, all of us, you will be free of that curse. It is our corruption, our madness that is reflected on you. With us gone, you will be yourself again.” She smiled sadly.

“But how am I supposed to kill a god?”

“You aren't.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You are bound to the same curse as we are, to the same madness if you will. What did you think was it that happened to Jones?” Her smile was sad and knowing but also sharp like that of a shark. “Love? Maybe. Betrayal? Sure. But his madness did not come from within. And you … you will share his fate in time. Maybe it will take a year. Maybe ten. But someday you will ask for salvation just the way I did if this curse is not broken.”

“And your death would lift this curse?” He wasn't quite sure he believed that.

“This curse was born when we witnessed the death of Atlantis and the tearing of the world. It will vanish when our memory is gone.”

“But you are the ocean, aren't you? How can you die?” That was what he still didn't understand and frankly, he felt quite sceptical about this.

“Humans. It's always humans. It's what humans do. Figure out how to kill things. So, don't you know any particularly clever human who could do this?”

Of course, James knew someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, those of you who also read the Ferryman might have noticed some similarities. Yes, I'm using the same headcanons here, or, well, mostly the same. Especially the one that there are seven lords of the sea, Calypso one of them but well, Calypso is the lord of the Caribbean and there are others. They are OCs but I love them too much not to write about them.  
> And Pacific gives her name as Moana because that's what she is. moana = sea, ocean in maori (I think?) so, yeah. but if you want to think that the moana from the movies somehow became a goddess of the sea? you're welcome to it.


	4. Chapter 3: Dead men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was fast. And Jack is fun to write although also a bit difficult.

### Chapter 3: Dead men

Jack had stolen away from the helm to drink in peace and quiet next to the brig while Elizabeth was mourning her father. No one would search for him here and he could use the time alone to think. There were some things in urgent need of revaluation. Immortality for example.

“So now you are trying to run away from the debt you still owe.”

Jack turned around to abruptly that he thought he'd pulled something. “Who's there?”, he asked when he saw no one. Another hallucination playing tricks on him? He sure hoped not. It was difficult enough to keep a grip on reality without more hallucinations.

“Trying to escape from the locker.”

Jack turned again, more carefully this time and still, he could see no person. This was new. “Who are you?”

“Just a part of the ship. Part of the crew”, the voice answered with a hint of amusement.

When Jack turned this time, he could see someone. A shadowed figure, standing in the next door, hiding its face from the light. He recognized the stature from somewhere, he was sure of it. “Do I know you?”

The figure huffed a laugh. “Know me? I don't think so. But we've met.”

Jack gulped. That could be good or bad and considering his luck in the last months, it most likely was bad.

“Oh, don't worry”, the figure continued. “I'm not here to kill you. After all, you are already dead.”

“Aye, about that...” Jack drifted off, unsure of what to say. This was a messenger from Jones. He had to tread carefully.

“Why should I let you go? You still have to pay a hundred years.”

Jack was also pretty sure that he recognized the voice from somewhere but it was kept low and dark and there was a roughness to it that Jack was sure didn't belong there. Slowly, deliberately, he inched closer to the person in his roundabout way. Step to the side, two steps back, steps to the side, steps forward and a bit back again, all the while talking. “From my point of view that debt has been paid. With a little help.”

“You are about to run from it.”

“Can you really blame me for that?” No one could, right? He was only doing the smart thing. The locker was no good place to stay in for a hundred years.

“Just as much as I can forget about your debt.”

Jack was close now. He could make out details of the messenger's face. Or what was left of it. This … he wasn't new to the corruption of the _Dutchman_ 's crew but this was a new height of corruption. He could make out a tricorn overgrown with barnacles, algae-like hair and a face that had nothing human left. Instead there was something predatory like a shark or maybe a killer whale. Sharp teeth glinting in dim light. The shadow of gills on the neck.

“Staunched your curiosity, Sparrow?”

Oh, and this voice was familiar, he would swear on it. The tone. He just couldn't place it, even less so with no way of recognizing a face. “Not even remotely, mate. What was your name again?”, he fished for information.

“I didn't say it and you are evading my question. Why should I let you go?”

Bugger. Jack inhaled deeply and played his last card. “I can free you from Davy Jones.”

“Davy Jones is dead.”

“What?”, Jack exclaimed and nearly dropped his bottle of rum. “How? Who killed him?” He paused. “You did... You did? Who are you?”

“You can call me Lancelot if you really need a name”, the man answered exasperatedly.

“But why … oh, so the curse isn't bound to the captain. That is interesting.” Jack remembered something he had heard. “Very interesting.”

“What do _you_ know about the curse?”, Lancelot asked, maybe a bit rashly. Agitatedly.

“A bit. This and that.” Jack looked at his nails. “What's it worth to you?”

“Damn pirate”, Lancelot muttered. “I don't have the time nor am I in the mood for your games.”

“Now that's too bad, because I am and I am willing to play all the games I am in the mood for.” Jack smiled broadly. He was beginning to enjoy this. Without the threat of Jones looming on the horizon, life – or death in this case – seemed far more bearable. It was just missing rum. “But I am willing to cut my playtime short for … ten years off?” Jack knew that it was cruel to toy with a cursed person, especially if it was a curse as gruesome as this, but he just couldn't resist. Something about that man made him do it.

“No.” Firm, stern voice. Jack still couldn't place it. “There is, however, something you can do to get rid of your debt.”

Jack knew he was being baited. He also couldn't resist and bit. “What do you want?”

“I want you to kill. It's what humans do.” And didn't this Lancelot sound bitter now.

“Mate, if I'm not mistaken, you're human, too.” Jack tried one of his light smiles yet it didn't want to work as usual.

Lancelot huffed a grim breath. “Do I really look human to you, Sparrow? Look at me and tell me I'm still human.” With that he stepped fully into the dim light.

Oh, Jack could see what a human this one had been. Proud and tall, a firm set of the jaw. Yes, he was sure that he knew him but the how and who still eluded him in a truly infuriating fashion. “You look pretty human to me. Two legs, two hands, a head. There's just a bit … extra.” A lot extra, actually. Scales, for example.

“Enough of that, Sparrow.” Suddenly Lancelot sounded tired. “If you really want to be free of your hundred years of service, you will kill for me.”

“Not a big friend of killing”, Jack muttered. “But... I'm also not a big friend of service. Who is it that you want dead? … Who is it that you can't kill yourself?” Jack licked his lips. He was onto something here. He felt it. “Who could the new captain of the _Dutchman_ want dead and not be able to kill himself?” Jack grinned. “You're not just toying with me, are you, mate?”

“How come you think the world revolves around you, Sparrow? I do have better things to do than to appease your ego.” Lancelot huffed another breath and muttered something more.

“So it is someone not easily killed?”, he fished for more information. “Maybe something not human?” That would at least explain why the captain was willing to forget about a debt of a hundred years.

“What do you know about the lords of the sea?” The captain looked at him expectantly as though he knew that Jack always knew more than he admitted.

The eyes, Jack noticed, were still human. Somewhere between green and blue, just like the sea he loved. “They are eternal”, he answered while trying to place these eyes. “They can't be killed but they can be bound.”

“You will find a way to kill them.” The eyes turned cold. “And then you will be free of the debt you owe the _Dutchman_.”

“So you want me to find a way to kill the unkillable and by that earn my freedom upon completing this very impossible quest?” Jack tried to keep the doubt out of his voice and failed.

“You are, as you so often like to say, Captain Jack Sparrow. Think of something.” Jack would swear that he could hear a hint of amusement now. “Or this will be the last day that Captain Jack Sparrow escaped.”

And with that he vanished, leaving Jack behind with a riddle he could not hope to solve and this feeling of familiarity... No. That couldn't be. Lancelot couldn't be... “No”, Jack mouthed and knew at the same time who those eyes belonged to. “I'll be damned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know that the name James L. Norrington is most likely with L = Lawrence after his father but I just can't resist to make it Lancelot because he's quite similar in his love, isn't he?


End file.
